


The Cursed Blood

by lalazora



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bullying, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Harassment, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, greek mythology in a modern world, yes it happens I swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-15 11:49:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16932738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalazora/pseuds/lalazora
Summary: Red and blue into harmonious purple, soft beauty, and kindness combined with ambition and violent determination to breed a perfect war.Chan was a rejected son, a Cursed Child, but he would show his father and everyone who didn't believe in him, perfection. The blood in his veins sung for it to be true.(Counting down: 24 years, 2 months, and 14 days.)





	The Cursed Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Hello people! Get ready, grab popcorns, and please enjoy my new fic the cursed blood o/
> 
> First of all, I noticed I wrote most of my fic under Chan's perspective, and I think my favoritism is showing, so my next one is not gonna be like that xD.
> 
> Second of all, after Omniana, I think I was like "Man, Chan didn't suffer much in this fic for what he did, let him suffer this time :D." And that's how I'm now writing this. Yup. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you'll all enjoy The Cursed Blood, it will have four parts, and it's based loosely on Greek mythology, everything is thrown into a modern world, where French pastries are very common in SK (don't ask, I needed to put my love for pastries somewhere)
> 
> PS: This is from a prompt I also made (because we're still auto-sufficient) that you can find here:  
> https://twitter.com/lalazorachi/status/1046507483106357249
> 
> Shout out to Candace, for helping me making better summaries, and beta-reading my story, I love you ;-;

_ 24 years, 2 months and 14 days before Chan’s breaking point. _

 

If Chan was one thing, it would be a failure since he was born.

In a world where one person out of ten could be a God’s child, Chan stood out of the crowd like a sore thumb. 

His mother used to tell him that it was okay, that he wasn’t that different. He wasn’t the only one like this, he wasn’t alone. Chan just thought she tried to ease her guiltiness by trying to comfort her only child that her mistake when she was young wasn’t the cause of everything he was going through. 

Children of Gods were accepted, worshipped even, in some parts of the world. He heard the rumors and saw through the internet the places where children of Gods could be up to 30% of the population, where they were adored, put on a pedestal, controlling the people around them. Chan never really understood, he never considered himself much better than regular humans. Those children weren’t Gods, they were just half-Gods with a mortal parent, inheriting some characteristics from their immortal parent, but overall very human. His mother once kindly told him that some people just liked feeling inferior to higher beings, it made them feel safe. He wouldn’t understand what she meant by that until much later in his life. 

In the place Chan lived, those children of Gods that he was part of and regular humans were mixed. Discrimination was something that happened, but it wasn’t very common either, nobody really wants to bully a child whose parent was so powerful they could find a way to curse you for five generations. People feared Gods, and Chan thought somewhere that they were correct to do so. 

Even if Gods were forbidden to interact directly with human affairs, they still held power over the human world. People who got in their good graces could become incredibly “lucky” in no time. Gods were free to travel to the human realm, and to interact with people as well, but rules were strict on some points: never force anyone to do their bidding, no direct interactions with human destiny. There probably were more than that, but most people only remembered those two, as those were the ones humans were interested in. 

Their children were often used as their link to human’s affairs, and thus a way of indirectly interfering. Chan sometimes wondered why put rules everyone knew would be bent in one way or another. His mother told him those rules were put in this world to try making it less chaotic. That when just one country in Europe believed in them, without those rules chaos had ensued. 

“Rules aren’t necessarily meant to be bent, they are there to try and give the world a bit of a structure. Rules will be bent, but the structure will still stand, and that’s what’s most important.” 

However, Chan thought that, if it was the case, then there weren’t enough rules over them. When he told her that, she just smiled gently, sadly, telling him Gods weren’t meant to be controlled in the first place. That the only reason Zeus had put them into places was to protect humans. Chan thought it was just to secure their playground, but he wouldn’t dare to say that out loud. 

They were always listening after all. Don’t pronounce the name of a God in vain, or they will listen to you and what you say, even think. 

His mother told him he shouldn’t feel different. That he, as well, was the child of a God, he wasn’t alone, he shouldn’t be afraid of others, or the Gods, they’ll accept him. Everything was okay.

As a child, Chan believed her. He was too small, too young, to understand yet how the world worked —  how some things are weird and meant to be rejected, even in a world like his. His mother was a liar, and he wished she had told him the truth. 

He wished she told him that having a deep burgundy red eye combined with another sky blue one wasn’t something accepted or standard in this world. 

Children of Gods all were easy to find in a crowd if you just looked at their eyes. You could identify which God was someone’s parent, only by doing that. Apollon’s children had pure porcelain colored eyes, while Hypnos’ ones were a dark amber. 

His father’s children had blood in their eyes, a burgundy so dark you couldn’t see their pupils if you didn’t pay enough attention. The color symbolizing the people who died in the war, symbolizing their father’s history with humanity, and their determination to get what they would want in life. 

Their father was Ares, the proud God of War and Destruction. Well-known man-slaughterer, with a non-hidden hatred for humanity through the ages. 

His father was Ares, a dangerous God, feared by everyone — even his own children. 

His mother’s name was Soojin, but when she met his father, she went by Lauren. 

His mother told him the story pretty often as a child, how she was a college student in America, a young woman trying to get as many experiences as she could get while still being young and carefree, and that’s how she met his father. 

His mother always talked kindly about his father, how they met while she was in a museum trying to understand more about Gods’ origins, how he saw her and thought she was the most beautiful woman he ever met.

“At least, that’s what he told me,” she said to him playfully.

She fell in love, pretty hard. But it was a short romance, as romances with Gods always are. She knew who he was, but she didn’t care. She liked how he acted softer around her, how he didn’t know how to correctly treat a human well. Chan heard stories about his other mistresses. Ares wasn’t known for being kind and gentle. As a child, he just thought his mother might have been someone special to him. Maybe she had been, perhaps not. It was hard to tell with Gods, what was real or not. Chan liked to think that, at the least, his mother’s romance had been real. If only one positive thing could come out of his situation, then everything was okay. 

When she left America to go back to Korea, she was pregnant. His mother wasn’t surprised, she had expected that that’s what tends to happen when you become the favorite of a God, at least for a short time. She had been proud of carrying a child of Ares in her belly, of being someone Ares had chosen from millions of humans. And more than that, she couldn’t wait for Ares to come back to her, blessing one last time their child, the one he wanted to have with her.

He learned later in his life, while others just wanted to put him down, that he was supposed to have been Ares’ perfect son. The result of his blood combined with the one he found beautiful. It was how it was supposed to be. Chan was supposed to be his favorite. 

The reality was something else. 

Because Ares didn’t know humans very well. He was known for despising most of them, for being one of the least interested Gods in humans, except to kill them or just use their mutual love of war for his own benefits. Ares didn’t know humans. 

If he did, he would have realized that a Korean woman with sky-blue eyes wasn’t something familiar. 

His mother was herself a daughter of a Goddess, was the child of Aglaea, one of the three Charites of beauty and seduction. 

It was a short romance, and his mother assumed Ares knew and it didn’t bother him. If he did, Chan wouldn’t be born. 

He learned that later in his life, when his mother felt less guilty about his situation, about giving him birth to just let him suffer in the hands of the intolerant ones, but Chan’s birth never had been blessed by his father. 

When his mother gave birth to him, he came. He looked at his newborn son in his tired mother’s arms, looked at his eyes, and kept silent for a minute. 

“This is no son of mine.” Was the only thing he pronounced on this day before leaving. His mother never really got over it, he could tell by how she shook each time she even mentioned his birth. They never really celebrated his birthday because of that either. 

His mother loved him, Chan never really doubted that. 

However, the look she gave him sometimes didn’t leave any doubts either. She regretted giving birth to him. 

People like him weren’t that uncommon. They were even more worshipped sometimes, after all, they had all the more Gods’ blood in their veins, and with the numbers of Gods’ children out there, it wasn’t rare that those things happened. Gods’ blood tended to fade out after two generations, but some of them didn’t really care, if they liked a human, then they could care less about who their parents were. Gods themselves had weird family ties after all. 

However, there are some Gods who took this very seriously, who don’t let any humans have their blood in their veins. Ares was one of them. 

So to let his blood be mixed with one of the Charites? One of the weakest Goddesses out there, with such attributes at the extreme opposite of him? It had been a mistake, an inexcusable error on his part and Ares had been angry, no, furious for letting this happen. 

Ares’ children were known for being ambitious, determination burning through their veins, ready to get everything they wished for in life while also dealing with a more violent nature. They were often part of the military. If not, firemen or police officers were also a frequent occupations. If they decided to become something else, their determination and want to have control over everyone else made them great leaders or made them accomplish their goals with overwhelming success. Chan had parts like this in him.

However, it was his grandmother’s characteristics that his father and most people saw. The natural kindness, the soft features and pretty lips, how easy it was for him to seduce people while not doing anything, the joy he could feel for life sometimes, even in the worst situations. His natural inclination towards artistic fields, in his case, dancing in particular.

No son of Ares should be dancing, so he gave up on that early in his life. 

A blue eye for kindness, a red one for determination.

Chan had been despised by his father since he was born, making him into a failure that no one wanted to be born. 

Chan was Ares’ rejected son, cursed blood running down his veins, cursed by the Gods, cursed by humans, and cursed by himself as well. 

As a small child, Chan didn’t know any of that yet.

However, when he entered kindergarten, it began to change.

 

* * *

 

 

_ 18 years, 11 months and 22 days before Chan’s breaking point. _

 

Kindergarten had been something he had been excited about as a child, strangely. While most children would prefer to stick with their parents and never leave them, Chan had been excited. 

His mother sheltered him all his life, he had never met children of his age, had never really met anyone in general. Chan had been a little secret she wanted to keep. To be more precise, while Chan’s birth was known, Ares had been furious enough this day to let the rumors spread, she did not want to be known as the mother of the rejected one. 

Still, all children had to go one day, but it wasn’t without reluctance on her part, and the day she led her child to school for the first time, looking at Chan being excited, she couldn’t help but pity the poor being she herself had put on earth. 

It felt like leading a man to his death while said man had no idea what was going to happen. How was she supposed to say to a small child that life wasn’t going to be easy on him? That what he was so excited about was going to would become his worst nightmare? She hoped and prayed so hard that she was going to be wrong, but she just needed to see the stares of those passing by, looking strangely at her son, to know she wasn’t going to be. 

“Mommy, do you think I’ll make friends?” She snapped back to reality and looked at her son, still holding her hand firmly, small dimples appearing on his face. Her heart ached. She squeezed his hand harder.

“Yes dear, everyone is going to love you.” Lies. She knew it. And he’ll realize that soon enough, but for now, for now, Chan’s smile got wider, telling her once again what he couldn’t wait to do or meet. For now, she could keep protecting him from the world. Even if it was just for two more minutes before they arrived, she could hold onto his innocence for a little bit longer. 

From this side, she could only see his blue eye, the one he inherited from her, a symbol of who she was and why he would suffer in his life. A clear blue eye, showing the innocence of a child. Still as bright as the sky.

She wondered how long it would take before the color got darker and darker. 

She could see the kindergarten. They were still a few feet away, but she didn’t want to get closer. She was a coward, no better than all the people judging her son, not wanting to be associated with him. So, she stopped walking.

“Mommy?” Chan eyed at her curiously. She was a bad mother, wasn’t she?

“Chan, dear” She knelt in front of him, hugging him with all her force. “Mommy is very proud of you, remember that you’re strong okay? Stronger than mommy. Be a proud son of Ares and show people who you really are. Promise?” Chan just hugged her back, not understand why his mother had such a small voice, not realizing what his father had to do with anything, but if it would make his mother happy, then he’d do as she said.

“Promise mommy! I’ll be a good son for you as well!” His mother simply hugged him even stronger, before letting go. She smiled.

“Good Chan. Now, go. You…You have friends to make, don’t you?” And Chan smiled widely, nodding while running to the school, alone, while most children were still with their parents when they entered the building. 

His mother went back home before she could feel even more sorrow and regret than she did right now. 

 

Chan still was oblivious to the stares people keep sending him while he entered the building, still oblivious to the look on his teacher’s face while seeing his eyes. He was used to that after all. 

He could have been unaware of everything if other children didn’t bother him. 

Children could be cruel, in all their innocence. Repeating what their parents say, even things said in their own privacy, when parents thought their children were too far to be influenced, but the truth is they were close enough to hear. 

Chan had a kind soul, something he may have inherited from his grandmother, or maybe it was just him, but he didn’t understand how people could be mean as a child. Did he do something terrible? Was it a misunderstanding? Were they angry at him? 

He didn’t understand. He didn’t think he deserved any of it, his mother had never been angry at him, only ever praising him on how beautiful of a child he was.

So why?

A child approached him first, his eyes the color of metal,  _ a son of Hephaistos _ , he noted. Chan frowned. Didn’t his mother warn him about Hephaistos’ children? That they’ll probably not get along? Something about Ares angering their father a long time ago. He shrugged, he shouldn’t judge people based on their parents. If he was approaching him on the first day, it was probably to talk to him, not insult him, right? He had no reason to. 

So Chan smiled, waiting patiently in his corner of the classroom, not noticing the other children eyeing him curiously, not seeing the lack of a smile on the other’s child face. 

“Are you the bastard son?” Chan frowned, he didn’t know bastard meant. Judging by the gasp of their teacher, it wasn’t a word he was supposed to know. Mommy told him that some words weren’t supposed to be pronounced by children like him. 

“I don’t know what that means.” He answered truthfully. The little boy in front of him kept looking at him weirdly. “Did you come here to be a friend?” He smiled instead, hoping he would say yes. 

He didn’t say the answer. 

“It means you are not wanted. Are you?” He said instead. Chan didn’t understand. His mom loved him. He never saw his father, but his mother always told him he could only like him, that he wasn’t here because he was busy. He didn’t understand, didn’t comprehend. A weird feeling was in his chest. He just frowned, didn’t say anything.

“Mom told me that the friend I would have with two different colored eyes wasn’t a son of Ares, but a bastard. Are you who she was talking about?” 

Everyone was staring. The boy standing in front of him was staring, a curious smile on his face, but Chan could see the hatred hidden behind his eyes. Was it a natural reaction? Was he doing that to humiliate him? He would understand later that sometimes parents let their children do their bidding, that the little boy was just repeating things he had heard, that maybe Hephaistos himself, after seeing one of his children would be in the same class with him, whispered things into his child’s ears, manipulating the small being just to get to Ares, to humiliate the God even more, Chan just being collateral damage. 

Everyone was staring, even his teacher simply stared and wasn’t doing anything. He didn’t understand. Wasn’t she supposed to protect him? His mother told him teachers were there to be sure children were safe. 

Was he safe? He guessed he was if no one was doing anything. 

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The weird feeling in the pit of his stomach was growing, the stares, the whispers, something cold in his air he had never felt before. He regretted not screaming for his mommy to be here for him. Where was she? The first doubts started to grow in Chan’s brain while waiting for an answer.

Did she know this would happen? 

“Ares doesn’t love you.” Something broke in his chest.

His mother assured him he loved him. Did she lie? Why did she? Was the boy lying? But why was everyone looking at him, some of them were laughing, he could hear them. He looked at his teacher, pleading for help with his eyes, wasn’t she supposed to be here for him? 

The teacher looked guiltily at the poor child being circled by his peers. This child wasn’t supposed to be here.

Blue and red shouldn’t be mixed after all, and even if she knew she wasn’t supposed to act like this towards a child, she couldn’t help herself. It was wrong for him to be here and so, in a moment of human weakness, she didn’t go to help him. She stayed far away. Later, she would regret it, later she would try to make things better for him. But later, it would be too late.

The whispers kept going around.

“He is a son of Ares, why does he look so weak?” Stop.

“Daddy told me Ares was so angry when he was born” Stop. Stop.

“Really? My mommy told me his mother hid him from everyone because she didn’t want him either.” Stop. Stop. Stop.

“So does nobody love him?”  _ STOP. _

The feeling kept growing inside his chest, the boy in front of him kept staring, people kept whispering. It was too much, too much. He wanted to enter a bubble and never leave, why were they staring, why him? What did he do? 

The thoughts kept storming in his head, until, after being silent for way too long, he couldn’t do it anymore. 

He screamed. 

He screamed and cried. Not really understanding why, the voices becoming too much in his head, hoping somehow to stop hearing them like this, hoping they’ll leave him alone. But he kept hearing, they kept whispering.

“He IS weak. Ares’ sons don’t cry.”

“That’s sad, Ares probably don’t want a crybaby for a son.”

“My daddy would be so sad if I was like this.” 

His teacher finally said something, finally put the children away, taking control over the class once again, but it was too late. 

Chan had been exposed to the world his mother wanted to keep him from, the world he had no part in. 

It was a huge thing to deal with for a child, and he wouldn’t get what it really meant until later until he was grown up. 

Right now, he was just hiding away, waiting for the day to pass, after calming down, the teacher doing nothing to help, once again. He was alone. 

The day ended, and it was time to go back home, back into his mother’s arms. Seeing her so far away from everyone while getting out of the kindergarten made something stir in his heart once again, something he didn’t want to think about.

_ “My mommy told me his mother hid him from everyone because she didn’t want him either.” _

While looking at his mom, he wondered if they were right. Looking at his mother, who wasn’t surprised to see him so defeated, he asked himself if she knew. 

It was silent for a while, his mom grabbing his hand silently, not saying anything, probably waiting for him to talk first, about his day, about his worries.

“Mommy?” She stiffened. “Yes, dear?” 

“Does Daddy hate me?” She looked at her child, pitifully, at his eyes, his cursed eyes, wet from emotions he shouldn’t have. She couldn’t lie anymore. Not now, not when lying would do even worse things to him than saying the truth, no matter how awful it was.

“Yes, dear.” She said quietly, squeezing his hand even more.

He cried even more after that. He was unstoppable for a few days. 

His mother just watched her son starting to break while saying nothing more, taking her child in her arms softly. 

 

* * *

 

 

_ 13 years, 3 months and 28 days before Chan’s breaking point. _

 

Chan’s life as a child had been a living hell. 

With no one on his side, no one to protect him, and being too kind to say anything at first, he had just been the ragging doll of frustrations and hatred of others. He still didn’t quite get why people were like this towards him, but he understood one thing.

His father hated him, and he needed to do something about that. He couldn’t hide his eyes, not when he was so young at least, but Chan could try to be the best at everything. Try to fill his body with determination and show how he could be the best son Ares could have. One day, maybe, he would accept him, he would stop acknowledging his Charites blood, and start seeing his Ares one. 

So, he became the best at everything he could be. He started ignoring the things they said he shouldn’t love, like dancing and poetry, concentrating on martial arts instead, and taking as many courses as he could, becoming the first of the class in each. If he was the best, then Ares had to acknowledge him, right? He was a child, small. However, Chan was going to be the best warrior out there. No more crying, no more complaining. No matter how much his heart was telling him to stop, how he would never hurt anyone, he couldn’t.

A small child, influenced by the people around him, affected by things from above that were too big for him to understand. 

As a child, between the whisperings and the bullying, Chan created a steel wall around his heart to not let it be broken once again. He was a son of Ares, he was strong.

Chan became the perfect son of Ares, still a bastard, still rejected, but the one Ares should be proud of.

He did nothing. 

He kept rejecting him, never acknowledging him as one of his legitimate children.

It was okay, Chan would keep trying. He’ll be able to prove himself one day.

At ten years old, Chan didn’t meet a lot of Ares’ children, and the few he did keep laughing at him while making fun of his physical appearance, even though his traits weren’t defined yet, he apparently took more of his mother’s side already. 

He hated it.

Still, amongst all the children of Gods and regular humans who made fun of him, there was one child his age who never did. Meeting him had been one of the happiest moments of his life, and he was one he hoped would stay by his side for a long time. 

His name was Yuto, and he was a son of Ares, like him. 

Yuto had been a sweet child, maybe a bit too sweet for a son of Ares, but physically, even when young, he already had all the traits. He was tall and already had intimidating eyes. 

When Chan met him, he thought he would make fun of him as well. After all, he figured it was instructed to do so. They met in one of Chan’s Taekwondo classes, when Yuto was new, thick accent on his tongue from a country close to them.

He had been watching him for all of the class, and when he approached him at the end, Chan had been ready for the insults and mockeries to be thrown, but he didn’t. He just smiled.

“You’re so good! Will you help me get it right?” And that, this small act of kindness in his direction, something he didn’t get for so long except from his mother, but even she wasn’t as loving as before, was enough to leave him speechless. 

How easy it was to melt the walls around his heart if you even tried for a bit. Chan wasn’t as tough as he thought he was, and maybe that’s why he wasn’t accepted in the end.

Still, it was as easy for Yuto to enter his life as it was for his mother to give up on him

Yuto had been the reason why the rest of his life as a child had been a bit easier. Yuto had just transferred from Japan to Korea, something about his mother’s business he never really caught on, and Yuto never really tried to explain anyway. 

He learned later that his mother was one of the main mistresses of Ares, a great honor he said. He had a lot of brothers and sisters to play with, and most of them were strong. He said his oldest sister, a fierce woman who was a lawyer in Japan, was the person he admired the most.

“She’s not beautiful in the sense of physical beauty, she’s beautiful because she’s strong. When you see her act around, controlling everything, you cannot help but think she’s beautiful Chan, I hope you’ll see her one day.” Chan agreed to make his friend smile, but he wished he would never. If Yuto’s sister was one of Ares favorites, then meeting the pariah of the family probably wouldn’t be a good experience for her. 

He just needed to see how Yuto’s other siblings acted around him, how he never played at his home when his mother was here. Yuto never really said why but his nervous rictus and awkward excuses didn’t leave many places for imagination, his mother would just be furious of seeing him there, but he did see his numerous siblings a lot of times. 

His older sister had been the worst. She was 17, tall with tan skin and the darkest red eyes he ever saw, at least directed to him. They were murderous. She tried countless times to make Yuto stop seeing him, but he refused every time. Chan felt bad for putting his only friend in such a bad situation, but Yuto always dismissed his worries.

He had fun with him, with so many memories of them playing around. To this day, he could still remember the summer days in Chan’s house, hiding from the world while playing video games, their innate competitive nature making every game into a fight, screaming at each other while his mother looked at them, pleased. How at one point, Chan cheated, and Yuto yelled about unfair and unloyal it was, that no son of Ares should act like this.

It should have hurt, him who tried so hard to be the best son Ares could ever have, but from Yuto’s mouth, at this particular moment, it made him laugh.

“Yes, but that’s totally what a grandson of a Charites would do.” His mother looked at him, surprised, but not unhappy. Chan just ignored it. Yuto kept pouting, not realizing what he did, why it was so important.

Yuto made him slowly accept that it was okay to not only be a son of Ares, but also be the grandson of another divinity. In his own way, Chan wondered if he realized sometimes. In their 2 years of friendship, Yuto showed him that his kind nature shouldn’t be something he should be ashamed of. Yuto never said no to hugs or small acts of kindness, like gifts he liked to give away sometimes, he was even happy with them, never saying anything about how he shouldn’t do that. 

Just showing him how who he was born as wasn’t something to be ashamed of. And for that, even years later, Chan would forever be grateful to him. Chan didn’t know what he would have become if he kept trying to be someone he wasn’t entirely, for something he’ll probably never get —  the love of his father. 

He remembered the study sessions, the taekwondo classes they took together, how much he laughed with him by his side, how much of a precious friend he had been. He remembered how Yuto taught him Japanese while he helped him with Korean, he remembered the hidden sleepovers, always being sure Yuto’s mother never caught on to what his child was doing.

He remembered the days where Yuto felt scared for his own future, realizing himself that he was too soft for a son of Ares, that he didn’t want to be rejected or worse. They didn’t accept disgrace a lot in his family. Chan didn’t understand what it meant. He could only be there for his friend, and he promised to always be. Yuto just smiled while grabbing his hand, telling him how happy he was to have met him. 

However, the Gods decided Chan wouldn’t be able to keep his promise.

Yuto disappeared when Chan was twelve. 

He never knew where he went. One day he was here, next to him playing games, cursing words under his breath that a child shouldn’t say, and the next, his whole family disappeared, and no one seemed to know what happened.

He tried everything, from asking the neighborhood, his middle school, to asking about his mother’s job, to know where she was. He even dared to ask Yuto’s siblings’ friends for more information. No one knew anything, or at least no one wanted to. 

Chan had been devastated by all of this. His only friend, the only one he could count on, disappeared without even telling him say goodbye. It was almost like he had never been here. Sometimes, he wondered if Yuto even existed, the only reminder he had of him being old scratches on his game consoles and a picture his mother took of the both of them that he printed out. He regretted not taking more. 

He would learn what happened just years later, but, at just twelve years old, Chan had no idea what to do, and once again, he was alone in this world. 

His mother, while seeing him eyeing the picture on the wall, just smiled sadly at her son. 

She reminded herself to buy him a real frame for the picture.

 

* * *

 

_ 7 years, 1 month and 4 days before Chan’s breaking point. _

 

Yuto taught him that he should try to be happy, even if the world around him didn’t want him to be. He set his determination on this, trying to get the life no one wanted him to have. He still excelled at everything he was doing, Chan didn’t know if it was a habit at this point, or if he always hoped somewhere his father would see his great efforts and accept him. Hope in vain, and the more he was getting into his life, the more he realized that. 

Nonetheless, hoping wasn’t too bad of a thing, right? So, he hoped. 

Finishing middle school and high school alone had been hard, but most of the people he saw where people he knew from kindergarten, having never left the place he grew up in. Most of them got tired at one point of annoying him, or it just wasn’t funny anymore. He didn’t know. 

He knew some of them were jealous, and that’s why they kept going. After all, he wasn’t supposed to be so good in everything he did, he was supposed to be the rejected one, the one no one was supposed to talk to. He guessed it could be infuriating for some, but quite frankly, he didn’t care anymore.

The only thing he still disliked were his eyes. 

He couldn’t help it. Sometimes new people came into his life, new students, or random strangers in the streets, and they kept staring. All of them knew what they meant, who he was a child of. He hated that, hated people knowing who he was just based on the pure color of his eyes. Knowing what kind of character he could have, them wondering what the mix of both was, being disgusted that such combination could exist in the worst cases. 

One day, when he was fifteen and in streets going alone to buy some groceries, a stranger came to him fast, grabbing his arms, and he let the grocery bags fall from his hands at the same time, surprised and hurt. The stranger had wild eyes, human ones, and kept looking into his own, cursing under his breath. 

People started to slow down around him, and Chan hated that. The voices began to whisper again. 

The stranger kept looking.

“Sky blue and burgundy…What kind of monster are you, kid?” Who the fuck was this man to tell him he was a monster? 

Chan didn’t know why, but this particular interaction made him angry, angrier than he ever was before. 

He was just so damn tired of everyone judging him, or even his mother, for what he was, for who he was. All of this because of a mistake. One stupid mistake on his father’s side. 

Frustrated, sometimes he couldn’t help but curse him under his breath, always careful to not pronounce his name, feeling guilty just after. This man gave him the same sensation: frustration and bitterness. 

“Leave me alone. Now.” He contained himself, struggling to get his arm out of the man’s firm grip. He didn’t let him go, still looking at with stern eyes.

“A son of Ares and of a Charites. Tell me kid, who of them both decided to curse you?” The crowd around them kept getting bigger and bigger, the voices getting louder. He didn’t want to be here, he wanted to go. And the anger in his chest kept growing. He looked into the stranger’s eyes, fierce and ready to fight and kick him, but the stranger must have noticed something because he let go. 

However, he didn’t look scared, just curious. 

“Ares it is then. I knew he hated humans, but to curse a child who isn’t even born yet is on another level, interesting.” 

He kept looking at him, while Chan didn’t know what to do. Was he supposed to escape now? Scream and tell him to shut up? What was the most reasonable option? But the stranger didn’t let him choose. 

He just smiled, at him and then at the crowd, and then looked at him one last time.

“Kid, be careful with those eyes, they’ll get you into some real troubles one day.” And then left, and with him, the crowd finally spread away. The voices got quieter, and finally, the only thing he could hear now was the brouhaha of the city. He kept still for a few minutes, always looking at the spot where the man was, and then, out of nowhere, picked up the bags and went back home. 

To this day, Chan didn’t know if he was talking about the glare he gave him or the color of his eyes, but what Chan did know was that he was tired. Tired of his eyes, tired of being looked at, tired of being judged. 

On this day, he finally had enough of the pretty different colors dancing in his eyes. On this day, he decided to hide them from the world. 

Chan bought his first contact lenses when he was fifteen, hiding the sky blue and the burgundy behind dark brown. 

His mother didn’t say anything, she just looked at her son getting out of their little bathroom with new eyes, she only paused for a minute, looked at him sadly, with maybe a hint of guilt, and just said her usual “have a good day, dear” and let him go. Not asking for an explanation, not trying to convince him he was wrong for doing that, that he shouldn’t hide, because she herself probably didn’t believe it. 

In the streets, he felt the difference instantly. No more people looking at him strangely, no more stares. You don’t realize how much you’re being stared at until you're ignored entirely. It felt great. It felt nice. 

It felt normal, and it was with an appeased stomach and brain that he went to school on this day. 

Of course, the people there were less tolerant and kind.

Sure, most people ignored him, but as soon as they saw a reason to bother him, they jumped on it like vultures, trying to shred him to pieces with their words and laughter. 

Chan just didn’t care anymore, he was used to it anyways. 

That’s how he finished school at eighteen while getting a new sense of peace in the little lenses he got every week, at one point sometimes he forgot the real colors of his eyes. He was ignored, but somehow happy. 

Things would get better, slowly. He believed in it, that he’ll be happy. 

And if there was one promise he should keep, it was this one. 

 

* * *

 

 

_ 5 years, 3 months and 29 days before Chan’s breaking point. _

 

Finishing high school meant he had to find something to do now, and truthfully, Chan had no idea at first. 

He gave up on dancing years ago, and as much as he liked combat sports, he didn’t see himself making a career out of that. The end of his high school was coming nearer, and he still had no idea what to do after. 

It’s while scrolling down the streets after a particularly bad day, his mother finally doing her role as one, telling him he should find something to do fast before it was too late and he loses a year doing nothing. He didn’t know why she was so adamant about him finding something to do, but it apparently was vital to her that her only son wasn’t even more of a disappointment that he already was. 

Suddenly, a sweet sugary scent went into his nostrils, making him pause. He looked around the place he was in, and realized while not recognizing the surroundings that he might have walked too far away from home, Chan cursed himself for that, hoping he’d find the way home quickly, but first, the scent was intriguing to him. He wondered where it came from, he wondered what was producing such a nice one. 

So, he followed it until he reached a shop across the street, not too far away from where Chan had been standing, and he finally decided to look up.

A bakery. 

“Of course,” he thought while entering, still curious about the scent. 

The bakery was small, but the warm brown and orange covering the walls as well as the floor of the shop, made it look welcoming. He saw some people sitting down in the back of the shop, eating pastries which looked delicious from where he was standing. His stomach grumbled embarrassingly. Hopefully, nobody heard. 

“Welcome!” a young man standing behind the display shelves said, with a big smile on his face. “Do you want to eat here or is it for takeaway?” Chan wasn’t sure if he wanted to buy something in the first place, he was just intrigued by the smell, so he didn’t know how to answer to the man’s question. 

“Hmm, I don’t know? I just smelt something nice, I was curious.” Chan had been afraid to be rude, but the young man kept smiling. 

“You must have smelled what our baker is making right now, he’s making the brioches for tomorrow morning, but I’m sure he’ll be very flattered enough to hear someone found the scent of his creations appealing enough to come here to let you try, do you want me to ask?” And Chan just nodded, shyly. Because he really wanted to try them out. They already smelled so lovely, he couldn’t help but wonder how good they’ll taste.

The man just chuckled while directing him to a table, telling him to wait for a bit, before going through a small door probably leading to the back of the shop. So he waited. 

A few minutes later, a smaller, but apparently older, man with amber eyes, a sign of the children of Demeter, let his head out through the door, looking at him curiously, before going back inside. He wondered if he was the baker. He could hear laughter and even more chuckles he recognized from the young man who stands there before. Until he finally got back with some brioche slices. 

It looked delicious, warm and soft in his hands, a golden color, and a scent, oh so heavenly, he could smell the butter and the sugar dripping down the slices. The young man chuckled even more. 

“Don’t just look at them, eat.” So he did. 

The butter made the soft bread melt on his tongue, he didn’t need to chew to swallow it, the brioche wasn’t too sugary, just enough to make him want more after gulping down the last slice, a clear disappointment on his face after finishing. He was going to ask for more when he realized something.

He didn’t feel any stress since he entered the shop. He was calm, eating something delicious, in a welcoming environment. Peaceful. He looked around, all the people talking and laughing, letting out small, pleasing moans after eating something they liked, not an ounce of stress on their faces. 

It was beautiful, a feeling he didn’t have for a long time. 

How would it be to be the one giving this feeling toward others? How would it be to make people happy like he was right now? 

He glared at his empty plate, wondering how he could make the bread himself later, was asking the baker himself would be considered as rude? He wanted to make it again, at least for his mother. Maybe they’ll be able to talk normally once again if they had a talk around something sweet to eat. 

He snapped back. That was it. 

What if he became a baker in the future?

The idea made him smile widely instantly. He kept looking around, he could see him here, baking for people, watch their happy faces with something he made himself. 

“Sir? Did you enjoy it?” He looked back at the young man who was playfully looking at him. 

“Yes, yes I did.”

His mind was set on a new goal, and Chan’s determination was going to take him in a new direction. 

He was going to become a baker.

 

* * *

 

 

_ 1 year, 10 months and 22 days before Chan’s breaking point. _

 

Now, the road to becoming one had been harsher than he thought. 

First, he had to convince his mother it was a good career choice. The thing she wasn’t happy with was that becoming a baker meant no college, and instead directly becoming an apprentice. Something he already dealt with the day he had his epiphany, while he was talking with the baker later this day, asking questions about how to become one, seeing Chan’s passion convinced him somehow to take him under his wing. He would never be grateful enough for that, he still didn’t know what exactly convinced this man to teach a young man who knew nothing about a job the baker clearly loved, but he did instantly. 

“You came here because of the scent of my work, I think fate might be at work here.” He said jokingly, but seeing the expression on his face, he wondered if he really was joking. 

Being an apprentice in a bakery was hard. It meant waking up early, going back home late, and still, he didn’t even have all the paperwork his mentor was doing after work yet, but he loved every minute of it. Learning how to bake, how baking was a skill of precision and patience, that every drop of sugar you could put in a cake gave it a different taste, how the time you put the dough in the oven could change the final crisp of a tart.

“Bakers are like every artist out there, we all have our style, our way to do. You can judge it by the crisp of a pastry, or by their addiction to some products. A friend of mine tends to put a lot of orange-flower water in his creations, giving them a particular taste you cannot find in my bakery. I like my pastries with a lot of butter and with the least amount of sugar possible, I like the texture butter gives to a tart or bread. One day, you’ll also find your style.” 

He could listen to this man talk all day and night. Years passed, his first salary as an apprentice coming down his way, making him finally leave his mother’s house for good. He rented a small apartment a bit further away from the place he was working in for now. When his mentor asked why, he just said he rented a home near the place he wanted to open a bakery himself one day. He chuckled, telling him it was good he was thinking about the future, but he still had a long way to go before getting his baker certification and getting his own bakery. 

Chan just smiled, telling him it’s never soon enough to prepare yourself for the future. A happy one he couldn’t wait to live. His mentor just smacked his head and asked him to go back to work, or he’ll never recommend him anywhere. 

Something his mentor forced him to take though, was a small business management course, to learn how to run a business later. Sure, it wasn’t something he enjoyed, but it was at least something he would need later, and if it meant he could get there easier, then he would take it, make his mentor proud, and make himself proud. 

The road was hard, four years passed quickly and before he knew it, it was to get his certification — a necessity for opening his own bakery, for the people who’ll rent him a shop to take him seriously. 

While he left the certification center, after passing the tests, with a small paper congratulating him for getting his certificate, he smiled, looking hopefully at the sky. 

His hard work had paid off, and he finally will be able to realize his dream. 

 

* * *

 

Operating a new bakery all alone for a year had been hard. 

Long sleepless nights, filling in paperwork, he couldn’t thank his mentor enough for making him take that course back then. He didn’t know what he would be doing right now without it, waking up way too early to prepare his shop, getting back home very late, finding a clientele who will like his style of cakes, decorating a shop, making it into the peaceful environment he wanted it to be. He opted for cream-colored walls and floor. If you asked him, he would say it’s just because he liked the color, but seeing his displays and his apparent love for cream-based cakes, you might doubt him. Chan would never admit anything. 

After a year, at 24 years old, with a regular clientele but still a long way to go, Chan could say he finally was happy with his life and what he had accomplished so far. 

He loved his regulars. All of them, from the old lady who always took the same slice of chocolate sponge cake, to the young child clearly getting away from his mom once a week to buy him an éclair. 

But his favorite would probably be the couple of three young men who came almost every day after their classes, to get a piece of cake and a hot chocolate for one, and two coffees for the two others. 

They were still a young couple, still trying to work things out between the three of them, Chan supposed it wasn’t easy at first, to find your place in such situation if you weren’t used to it. He still remembered the first time he saw the youngest one of the bunch entering his bakery for the first time with sunglasses on, nervously pointing to a Paris-Brest he saw in the display, before sitting down at the nearest table, the one closest to the main door, as if he was afraid the people he was waiting for would miss him while entering. Chan frowned, he didn’t like when people in his bakery weren’t peaceful. So he looked around, made sure there wasn’t new clients for now, and went to the newcomer’s table.

“Hi.” He said, smiling. The younger one of the two jumped, looking at Chan through his glasses. He couldn’t see the expression he had, but judging by how his pouty lips were opened and the blush that started to spread out on his freckled face, Chan guessed he was surprised.

“Hmm, hi?” He answered back, still nervous. Chan kept smiling. “Do you like the cake so far?” The man looked back at the small creamy cake he still almost hadn’t touch yet, biting his lips.

“Ah, I guess? It looked good at least.” Chan hummed, “So why not eat it? Sugar helps a lot when you feel nervous or anxious you know, come on, taste it, you already paid for it.” He insisted, and the young man kept looking at the cake until he ceded under Chan’s gaze. 

He took a bite. 

What Chan liked the most about baking for others, was to see their expressions while they ate it, and sure right now he couldn’t see it because of the sunglasses, but he could see his tense shoulders getting more relaxed after each bite he took, and his firm grip on the spoon getting more and more stress-free as well.

“Better?” The man just nodded not saying anything. Chan smiled, he preferred that.

“So, do you want to talk about what is stressing you out?” He fidgeted on his seat. “I don’t know you.” Chan chuckled. “Yeah, but I always heard talking about your problems with strangers was easier, me not being judgmental and all of that. But if it makes you feel better, I’m Chan, nice to meet you.” He paused. “And you are…?” It was silent for a moment, the man probably pondering if he should trust this stranger or not.

“Felix. My name is Felix.” 

“Oh, are you from overseas?” Felix nodded. “Cool.” 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Felix stared at him, or at least he thought he was. 

“I-Okay.” He sighed. “I’m having my first date with boyfriends, soon.” Chan smiled. “Oh, is that so? Are they arriving soon? I can prepare you both a nice cake, special first date edition.” Felix smiled a bit at that. 

“Boyfriends, with a s. I-. It’s not just two people.” Chan still smiled. “Oh, okay then.” A pause. “Are you nervous because of that?” 

“Yes and no. I mean, they were in a relationship, before me. I’m just, I’m just afraid I’ll not find my place in this. We already had this talk before, but what if they didn’t mean it? What if who I am, is too much for them? I-..” He stopped. Chan frowned. “Who you are?” It was silent once again. And then, suddenly, Felix put his sunglasses away, showing his eyes to Chan and-

Oh.

Deep abyssal black with a hint of crimson red around the pupils. The mark of the children of Hades. 

Children of Hades were a special case in this world, hated by many for what they represented. They were amongst the most powerful children out there. They could kill with a simple touch of the hand if strong enough, sending you to Hell, where their father lived. They were feared and much more controlled than the rest of the population. 

If Felix was here, in front of him in public, it could only mean he was considered weak enough to be living in society. If Felix wanted, the only thing he would be able to do was to make him vulnerable for a second or two, enough maybe to get away from any danger, but not dangerous enough to kill. 

The man in front of him looked nervous, and he could understand why. He probably feared his reaction, probably saw people disgust occasionally. 

He was the first one to despise doing this, but sometimes, you just need to see some people eyes to know they had been through difficult things. 

He kept smiling. 

“It’s okay, I’m not scared.” He could hear a deep sigh of relief from the other side of the table. “And I’m sure your boyfriends aren’t either if they even accepted to be in the first place. As for your other concern, time will tell you if they are good for you or not if you can fit in or not. All of this happens naturally, so relax, first dates are supposed to be fun, so have fun, okay?” Felix visibly relaxed at that, somehow feeling better at the stranger's words, as if things will be as good as he predicted. 

“You’re a good commercial sir, it makes me want to come back.” Chan really laughed at that. “Maybe I am, will you come back?” Felix smiled widely while nodding, “Of course.”

“Maybe your boyfriends will come back as well, then. I hope they’ll like cakes. What are their names? I’ll personalize two just for them.” Felix chuckled. “Hyunjin and Jisung.” 

Chan saw the expression on his face, a non-hidden tenderness for the people he just mentioned clearly showing on his features. He hoped the two loved him as much as he seemed to do. 

Turns out, they did. When they arrived, clearly as nervous as Felix had been, but for different reasons, they just kept showering him loving gazes and small kiss from the taller of the three on his cheek, while the smallest pouted, saying it wasn’t fair for him, being the only one on this side of the table. They were adorable. And Chan looked at them with adoring eyes and kept doing so while the months passed, seeing their relationship evolving into something more stable. 

He was happy. He had everything he needed in life right now, a good job, friends, even if his friends were clients they still were regulars. 

His route to happiness had been long and harsh, but he kept being determined to accomplish everything he wanted, sure there was more to do, but for now, for now, it was enough. 

A new day, new pastries to make, new clients.

He heard the front door open for the first time this day.

“Welcome!”.

 

_ 3 months and 2 days before Chan’s breaking point. _

**Author's Note:**

> And that's it; I hope you all enjoyed it, people! See you next week for the next chapter of The Cursed Blood!
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated :D!


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